In truth, I found it hard going. It is not clear whether it is intended to be a book of instruction about the Roman conquest of Britain or an adventure story of a young boy who learns the tricks of the fighting trade from the Romans with the intention of using them against the same Romans back in Ireland. It turns out that this will not be necessary, but that he will have to fight his uncle Niall, who up to this point has been painted as a heroic figure. At the end, the future contact with Christianity is foreseen. As an exposition of military and colonial problems in Britain and Ireland in the 5th century, it is a wonderful piece of erudition. The explanation of the different origins of names and customs shows a mastery of the history and politics of the day. Similarly the story of the foreign cavalry in the Roman army/ The problem is that the reader is expecting an adventure yarn, with frequent setbacks and heroic reversals, culminating in some kind of temporary triumph. The longer the book goes on, the less this aspect is important. Clearly the book needs a map of Britain and Ireland and it would make easier reading if the names of the towns and regions were given in English. There needs to be a decision about which characters are important (what happened Sal Bui?) The notes at the heads of the chapters are a distraction – these should form a 20-page appendix at the end of the book. A true adventure story would not have such openings, because the story would be more important than the explanations. I suggest that you break up long paragraphs and have a consisted way of dealing with things like quotation marks, breaks between paragraphs etc. The difference between the followers of Christ and of Jesus is good; so is the account of the raiding pirates from across the North Sea. There are many other excellent things, but ultimately, I feel the book falls between two stools: Roman history and adventure yarn. An example is Ch 2, the initiation of Dathi which appears to have no further relevance to the story.

In truth, I found it hard going. It is not clear whether it is intended to be a book of instruction about the Roman conquest of Britain or an adventure story of a young boy who learns the tricks of the fighting trade from the Romans with the intention of using them against the same Romans back in Ireland. It turns out that this will not be necessary, but that he will have to fight his uncle Niall, who up to this point has been painted as a heroic figure. At the end, the future contact with Christianity is foreseen. As an exposition of military and colonial problems in Britain and Ireland in the 5th century, it is a wonderful piece of erudition. The explanation of the different origins of names and customs shows a mastery of the history and politics of the day. Similarly the story of the foreign cavalry in the Roman army/ The problem is that the reader is expecting an adventure yarn, with frequent setbacks and heroic reversals, culminating in some kind of temporary triumph. The longer the book goes on, the less this aspect is important. Clearly the book needs a map of Britain and Ireland and it would make easier reading if the names of the towns and regions were given in English. There needs to be a decision about which characters are important (what happened Sal Bui?) The notes at the heads of the chapters are a distraction – these should form a 20-page appendix at the end of the book. A true adventure story would not have such openings, because the story would be more important than the explanations. I suggest that you break up long paragraphs and have a consisted way of dealing with things like quotation marks, breaks between paragraphs etc. The difference between the followers of Christ and of Jesus is good; so is the account of the raiding pirates from across the North Sea. There are many other excellent things, but ultimately, I feel the book falls between two stools: Roman history and adventure yarn. An example is Ch 2, the initiation of Dathi which appears to have no further relevance to the story.

A Place at the Altar illuminates a previously underappreciated dimension of religion in ancient Rome: the role of priestesses in civic cult. Demonstrating that priestesses had a central place in public rituals and institutions, Meghan DiLuzio emphasizes the complex, gender-inclusive nature of Roman priesthood. In ancient Rome, priestly service was a cooperative endeavor, requiring men and women, husbands and wives, and elite Romans and slaves to work together to manage the community's relationship with its gods. Like their male colleagues, priestesses offered sacrifices on behalf of the Roman people, and prayed for the community’s well-being. As they carried out their ritual obligations, they were assisted by female cult personnel, many of them slave women. DiLuzio explores the central role of the Vestal Virgins and shows that they occupied just one type of priestly office open to women. Some priestesses, including the flaminica Dialis, the regina sacrorum, and the wives of the curial priests, served as part of priestly couples. Others, such as the priestesses of Ceres and Fortuna Muliebris, were largely autonomous. A Place at the Altar offers a fresh understanding of how the women of ancient Rome played a leading role in public cult.

As if in a Bright Mirror -- Conclusion -- Notes -- Abbreviations -- Bibliography of Cited Works -- Index

"This is by no means a dry-as-dust bare skeleton of history but a lively and imaginative reconstruction of the events of Caesar's dramatic period."Michael Grant